


A Hundred Lifetimes

by CJtheCregg



Series: The Strength to Start Over [2]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-24
Updated: 2018-04-24
Packaged: 2019-04-27 05:05:45
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 469
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14418303
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CJtheCregg/pseuds/CJtheCregg
Summary: A small excerpt from the world of 'The Strength to Start Over' world, set at the beginning of 'The Deathly Hallows'.Vernon is not a religious man. But tonight, he prays.





	A Hundred Lifetimes

**Author's Note:**

> Note: Set in the ‘Strength to Start Over’ world. (you need to read that, in order to understand who Vernon is now. (The will be more stories to come, to explain what has happened in between these two stories, and who Emme is.)  
> This small excerpt is set at the beginning of ‘The Deathly Hallows’, before Harry leaves Privet Drive.

**A Hundred Lifetimes**

 

_“And I’d choose you;_

_In a hundred lifetimes,_

_In a hundred world,_

_In any version of reality,_

_I’d find you and_

_I’d choose you.”_

  * _The Chaos of Stars_



 

Vernon Dursley was not a religious man. Nor was he an emotional man.

He’d watched as his brother and sister-in-law had been killed by a power hungry mad-man, and thanked god repeatedly when he’d found out his nephew was alive.

He’d seen two of his closest friends had been convicted and jailed for a crime they didn’t commit.

He’d watched his nephew grow up without the parents who should have been there, who should have lived through the ups, the downs…. the firsts, the lasts….

He’d spent five years of his life married to someone that now made his question his sanity at the time. He’d been fooled by her, by this woman who was cold and calculating, who had after everything, not cared at all. He’d watched her walk away without turning to look back at their - his - son.

 

He was not a religious man, nor an emotional one. But one this warm summer night, a soft breeze drifting through the open bedroom window, he found himself on his knees, praying to any god that was out there, that would listen.

He prayed for those he’d lost. For the ones who had come back. He begged any god to protect his nephew, to look after his son. He prayed that his ex-wife would one day regret walking away - not from him - but from their son, from a young man, who had once upon a time been a little boy who didn’t understand why his Mummy wouldn’t come back.

 

His eyes lifted from the cracked floor boards beneath his knees, and fell on the slumbering body across the other side of the bed. He sent one last desperate prayer… wish…. intercession to whoever was listening. That this miracle, this wonderful woman who slept on, unaware of his internal struggles, that his wife would survive this war that was tearing apart his adopted world. Tears rolled down his face, dripping onto the dark wood. His head fell forward, his forehead resting on the edge of the bed.

 

A gentle hand reached out, and combed softly through his thinning hair. He heard her moving, slowly across the bed, and onto the floor beside him. Her bare arms wrapping around him, her lips on his neck. Warm, wet droplets hit his shoulder as he reached one of his hands up to grip onto hers.

“I love you Vernon. We’ll be ok.” she breathed in his ear.

“Emme…. My Emme. Come back to me when this is over.” his voice broke, as he uttered the words that had been going through his mind, over and over for the last few hours.

“Always.”

 

 


End file.
